What would he come as? Presently she roused herself with a guilty start from the task of dressing and re-dressing Mr. Always as black and bitter as gall. Lucia confined herself to her quarters, wondering when they would flee to the country as so many other houses had done. Essentially the talk was a mixture of fragments of sentences heard, of passages read, or arguments indicated rather than stated, and all of it was served in a sauce of strange enthusiasm, thin yet intense. Every inch of the house felt safe to her, small and welcoming. “I am frightened now. Your fingers are even now as stiff as a schoolgirl’s. ” Annabel looked at her with terrified eyes. She watched, puzzled, as her cavalier frowned at the newcomer, glancing from him to Melusine and back again. .
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